


this ride we're on

by whataboutateakettle



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: 3x04, Coda, F/M, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8330608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutateakettle/pseuds/whataboutateakettle
Summary: It’s the first semblance of normal she’s felt all day. // a coda in three parts // post-ep 3x04





	

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep it as in line with past, present, and future canon as I possibly could. I did play fast and loose with the time line at a couple points ~~but god knows the writers do too so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯~~
> 
> Enjoy!

There’s a silence that feels longer than it is, and then it’s as if all the sound comes crashing down at once. Walter’s sputtering next to her, Sylvester’s gasp, Paige is mutterings ‘oh my god’ as she sits back down in her chair. All the while she keeps her gaze on Toby; his reaction is the only one she really cares about. His face has gone from furious to incredulous to whatever he’s currently thinking.

“Wait, you’re -” he says finally, mouth moving around the words like he’s forgotten all of them.

She takes a breath; this had been the first time she’s said the words out loud and there’s still a weird taste in her mouth. But before she can repeat herself Toby changes his mind, and rushes toward her. He grabs her hands and pulls her with him, all the way through the kitchen to the back of the garage.

“You’re pregnant,” he says breathlessly, and she’s not sure whether it’s because of the news or of how fast they were just moving. She nods.

“You didn’t tell me?” It’s a question, and his voice dips a little lower, and she can tell he’s got a million more of them.

“I was going to. I went to the doctor last week to be sure,” she says, looks up at him. His brow furrows a little, so she continues, “When I told you I was at the junkyard.”

He huffs a little, and she hastens to finish. “Look, I was planning to tell you tonight. Then _this_ happened and it seemed as good a time as any.”

Toby looks over his shoulder to where she had gestured at the rest of their friends, and when he looks back at her his gaze is a little softer than before. “You know, we really have to work on your timing skills.”

She doesn’t laugh, but the joke warms her heart more than she’ll admit. It’s the first semblance of normal she’s felt all day. Before she can say anything, Toby shifts closer to her, holds his hand, warm, large, gentle, against her stomach.

“What are you doing?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Are you kidding? Your baby is in there!” He exclaims, like it’s the miracle of all miracles. His choice of words give her pause, she bites at her lip, then lifts a hand to cover his, fitting her fingers in the spaces between his.

“It’s ours. Our kid,” she corrects him, and he looks at her, grins wildly and leans even closer, presses his lips against hers. She responds quickly, full of relief and readiness, and the ball of excitement and nerves settles a little in her stomach, where his hand still lies, where the _baby_ lies.

He starts talking even before his lips are properly off hers. “You have to tell me everything the doctor said. Who is this guy? Does he even know what he’s talking about?”

She looks at him pointedly for a moment, “ _She_ is one of the best in Los Angeles; I checked her out before I called. And I had her give me her notes so that you could read them.”  

His expression is soft and warm and grateful like she’s just given him the greatest gift and she’s not sure whether it’s the kid or the notes. Either way, she continues, “I left them at home, and we should go there before someone else gets tackled.”

Toby narrows his eyes but he nods anyway, and they both make their way back to their desks.

She packs up her stuff as fast as she can and turns around, bag over her shoulder, and nearly crashes into Paige. She’s standing in front of her, hands clasped together.

“So, uh, that was a lot of surprising information in a short space of time,” she says, smiling hesitantly.

Happy sighs, “About Walter -”

“No,” Paige interrupts her, “Don’t say anything. You were just helping a friend, I get it. Besides, I’m with Tim now, and we’re happy, so it really shouldn’t bother me. It was just a shock. _I mean_ , you’d think Homeland could have helped fix his citizenship thing, right?”

Happy stares at her as she rambles on.

“I think its Toby you should be more worried about,” Paige concludes in a whisper, glancing over her shoulder. Behind her Toby is forcefully rubbing out the riddle on the white board, starting with Walter’s name. “What I wanted to say,” She continues, “was if you need any help or advice with the pregnancy or the baby, I’m right here. You can talk to me anytime.”

“Thanks,” Happy says, offers her a tight smile. “I never had proper parents. I guess I don’t know how you do it.”

“Happy, you’re a genius. And also as much as you try to hide it, you’re a caring and loving person. I promise you, you will be great at this.”

She smiles again, more openly this time, but she still feels the urge to get out of there. Paige is right, a lot has happened in a short amount of time. Even the last 8 days feels like 8 minutes. And she’s exhausted.

Toby meets her at the back door, holds out his hand. And she wants to say it’s unnecessary, she’ll have to let go in a few seconds to get into her truck and drive them both home. But she takes it anyway, squeezes back.

* * *

She’s brushing her teeth, when he walks into the bathroom behind her. His eyes are wide and suspicious, like he’s just figured something out. She panics for a moment, her heart in her mouth; because when she left him he’d been reading the files she’d brought home from doctor.

She spits the toothpaste out, “What?”

“2010,” he says like that explains it, “I knew both of you in 2010.”

She sighs, figured that this would be coming up again, rinses her mouth quickly before responding. “You knew Walter. You and I had only met twice,” she points out.”

“This makes it all worse,” he mutters, leaning himself against the door frame, like he can’t bear to stand up any longer. She resists rolling her eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m a behaviorist. It’s my job to recognize behaviors. You two have been waving flags in front of my face for six years and I managed to miss every single one of them!”

She sighs, knows that this is part of it, part of what it will take to get back to normal, back to okay. Doesn’t mean she has to like it. “Okay, first of all, there were no flags. I swear. We got married-” Toby grimaces dramatically as she says the words and she resists the urge to tackle him herself. “We had _the ceremony_ at city hall, and then we never talked about again. Okay? You didn’t miss anything.”

“So how did Collins know?” Toby asks suddenly.

She shrugs, “No idea. Maybe he found the records. Maybe Walt opened his big mouth when they were down the rabbit hole together. I didn’t know he knew until you mentioned it.”

Toby sighs, runs a hand over his face, “I feel like I’ve been working on a huge problem for months, and I finally have the answer and it _still_ doesn’t make sense.”

He sounds almost defeated, and she takes a step towards him, tentatively wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head against his chest. She feels him relax a little, and finally feels like she can do the same.

“I should probably be focusing on the better of two truth bombs that got dropped on me today,” he muses, presses a kiss into her hair.

“You’re really okay with this?” She asks, keeping her head against his chest like she’s hiding from his gaze.  

“I thought geniuses didn’t ask stupid questions,” he retorts, brings a hand to her chin to guide it up so she’s looking at him. “Yes, Happy, I’m _more_ than okay with this.”

He’s smiling at her, and she cannot help but smile back. “Good.”

* * *

She wakes up to a split-second of confusion, the morning light streaming in through her curtains, and Toby’s hand on her stomach under the covers. She’s not showing at all, she knows because she’s been checking every morning in the bathroom, but his hand provides a gentle weight that feels almost welcome.

“What are you doing?” She asks, her voice hoarse from sleep, tilting her head a little to look at him. He’s propped up on one elbow, gazing softly at her.

“I did the math; Baby Curtis is probably the size of a blueberry right now. Can you believe that?”

She can believe it, because she’s done her own research on fetal development.

“Quinn-Curtis,” she says instead.  

He moves his gaze up from her stomach to her face, smiling widely. “I love you so much, _both_ of you,” he says it gingerly, like he can’t even believe it.

“You’re going to be saying that a lot, aren’t you?” She scoffs jokingly, and then she catches herself, the weight of everything grounding her. “I love you, Toby.”

She reaches out and pulls at his T-shirt until she’s close enough to kiss him, then she does, presses her lips firmly against his. This kiss feels freer than all the ones they’ve shared in the last few months; for once there’s only truth between them. The truth she knows right now: she loves him and she wants him; she terrified but she’s never been more alive.

They pull apart for air and Toby shifts them both so that he’s got both arms around her, lifts her on top of him. “I had a dream that I locked Walter in a box with an aggressive scorpion, what do you think that means?”

She stares at him for a moment, because his tone is playful but his eyes are serious and she knows this isn’t over yet, no matter how much she wants to move on.

“Relax, I wouldn’t actually do that,” Toby grins up at her, pushing some hair behind her ear. She raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s too on the nose. I’ll figure something else out.”

“Don’t get too crazy about this,” she says softly, “There are more important things to worry about.”

He furrows his brow for a second then he looks at her earnestly, “Hey, I promise you, you and Baby Quinn-Curtis are my number one priority.”

She believes him, she can feel it in her bones; she believes in him, she believes in them. He’s still gazing at her sincerely, and it’s almost too much; she looks away, rests her head down against his shoulder.

“Don’t get too crazy about that either,” she mutters into the soft worn material of his shirt. She feels him chuckle as he wraps his arms more tightly around her, and she’s not quite convinced he gets it yet. But she’s in this, and she’s not going anywhere. And that’s the easiest decision she’s ever made.


End file.
